


Not so useless, after all

by PaperHatCollection



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 15:40:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5503355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaperHatCollection/pseuds/PaperHatCollection
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maxwell finds a use for one of his more, lets say, useless pawns</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not so useless, after all

Wes added another log to the fire, leaning close to the rush of warmth that swept over him, his arms wrapping around his torso in a feeble attempt to keep what little warmth he had.  

He'd made it to winter. He'd actually managed to survive this long, thanks to two now broken statues, a life giving amulet he'd found under a strangely raised mound of dirt, some pigs 'friends' that had attacked any hounds that came near them (and provided meat upon their deaths), and pure, blind luck. He'd never made it this far before, which he suspected was even worse then he thought it was. 

But he couldn't keep surviving forever, he never could. He'd run out of food days ago, even as he tried to ration it out. What little warm clothing he'd managed to make when winter set in proved barely enough to keep him from freezing into a chunk of ice, and there was no more food near enough to his little base for him to venture out and find it. The only thing he had enough of at the moment was wood, having planted several around his fire pit before the cold hit. If he could only say the same of grass or rocks, he could have made more fires as he searched.  

At this rate, he would die of hunger if a tree guard didn't get to him first. It was truly pointless to keep fighting at this point, and yet Wes squeezed out every day he could before getting himself sent back to day one, where Maxwell would be waiting. He still didn't understand why Maxwell let him roam around instead of locking Wes back up the moment he'd found out the mime had been set free. 

"Perhaps I simply haven't cared enough to bother wasting my time both to catch you, and to then recreate a puzzle to hold you." 

Wes shoot back, away from that voice, only to find himself smacking into a large tree trunk, pain jolting through his back from the collision. He was shaking, but not from the cold.  

Maxwell stood on the other side of Wes's small fire, a heavy coat protecting the demon from the bitter cold. Though something about his posture, the look in his eye, convinced Wes he didn't truly need it. As the silence between them stretched out Maxwell moved his cigar back to his mouth, the tip glowing red in the nights air. 

Despite how little the other man was actually doing Wes was terrified. His heart was pumping a million miles an hour as he pushed himself harder against the rough bark, curling into himself an in attempt to defend himself from the others mere presence. He probably looked pathetic but he didn't care, he was to terrified to. 

"Hate to break it to you pal, but you always look pathetic." Maxwell said, giving his cigar a little twirl. His words mirrored Wes's thoughts far to much to be coincidence, the very fact he was here couldn't be a coincidence either.  

The realization that he was going to be locked away hit him like a ton of bricks. Wes curled fully into himself, digging the palms of his hands into his eyes as the tears he always struggled to keep at bay, that made him feel weak to show, flowed free as his shoulders shook in silent sobs. He'd done everything he could not to think about that event and now he had to, he couldn't take it again, Il préférerait mourir puis retour à la prison- 

A freezing, painful jolt hit him when the shadow hand grabbed his throat, yanking Wes off the ground to slam back into the tree he'd been cowering against. He struggled on instinct, yanking at the hand and fighting to free himself. He only stopped when the think smoke of a cigar was blown into his face, making him cough as he realized with a fresh wave of terror that Maxwell was right in front of him.  

For what felt like an eternity the only sound between them was Wes's ragged breathing and the crackle of his fire. Although Maxwell blocked the fire directly, casting himself in shadows while doing so, Wes could tell that it was dying. He'd considered letting the night monster end his suffering before, but could never bring himself to end his torment in such a way. Now he feared Maxwell was just bidding his time until Wes was surrounded in darkness, probably hoping to hear a pained cry. But he'd never spoken once on these islands, though the demon knew he was able.  

He was torn from his grim thoughts when he felt Maxwell's fingers brush the underside of Wes's chin, the demon's thumb tracing Wes's cheek makeup in an almost caring manner. The stark contrast to the vision Wes had of Maxwell, a terrifying, cruel figure that had pinned him here in such a painful way in the first place, was enough to make his head spin.  

"If I wanted you to die in that way, your fire would be out in an instant."  

Wes visibly flinched when he felt the truth in the others words. Maxwell wasn't one to waste time, if just wasn't his style. Everything in this world was rushed, from the days and nights to the very seasons themselves. Which meant if Maxwell was spending so much time, here of all places, then he wanted something. 

Maxwell's sudden chuckle sent shivers down Wes's spine. He'd guessed right, it seemed, and he deeply wished he hadn't.  

The shadow released him, Wes crashing to the ground in a shaking pile of terrified mime, sucking in a deep breath of air once his wind pipe was released. He braced himself against tree once more, knowing better then to try running from the king of this world. 

"Good boy." The praise was like a stab to the gut. Maxwell turned on a heel, returning to the fire which suddenly flared up with a new life. A shiver passed through Wes before he crawled closer, feeling grateful for the warmth and forgetting his fears for just a moment. But only for a moment, as the clicking of Maxwell's tongue sent it all crashing back. 

Maxwell pointed to the ground at his feet with his cigar, Wes forcing himself to crawl closer and kneel at the other mans feet. His cheeks burned in humiliation under his thick white makeup, but better to please this demon of a king then face imprisonment worse then he had already experienced. At least, he hoped so. He still remained unsure as to what exactly Maxwell wanted out of Wes. 

Maxwell's hand brushed Wes's hair, but didn't yank or grab fistfuls of the stuff as Wes would have guessed. Instead they swept stray strands of hair from Wes's face, moving to hold the back of his head almost tenderly.  

"You know, it isn't easy being a king, doll." Maxwell began, his voice layering itself over Wilson like honey. "You always have someone trying to ruin your things, the hours are just terrible, and, of course, you start to miss giving into your more.... primal desires." 

It didn't click at first. Maxwell shrugged off his coat at he talked, shadow hands taking it away. It was only when Maxwell brushed his other hand down himself, the one holding the cigar, to the belt buckle of his trousers that Wes realized what Maxwell was asking of him.  

Wes yanked away, or rather, he tried to yank away. Maxwells other hand had an iron grip on the back of Wes's head, keeping the mime from escaping. Wes slowly rose his eyes to meet Maxwells, the other man raising an eyebrow. 

"It's this or imprisonment doll. Your choice." Maxwell said, taking another drag of his cigar as he watched Wes struggle with the choice he had to make, finally slumping his white and red striped shoulders in defeat. Another dark chuckle escaped him Maxwells lips in response, before he forced Wes even closer to that growing bulge in his trousers.  

"Then get to work doll, and lets see what that mouth of yours is actually capable of." Maxwell practically purred.  

Wes's hands shook as he reached up to free the other mans erection, fumbling briefly with the belt buckle but fairing better with the button and zipper of the trousers. Rather then pulling down the others garments he used a gloved hand to free the others length and oh, Oh mon Dieu, il était énorme. 

He could practically feel the other mans amusement from his shocked reaction, his cheeks burning crimson red under his makeup. Maxwell's hand jerked Wes closer, his lips nearly touching the others tip as his breath made it twitch gently. 

"Open up, doll" Maxwell ordered.  

Wes forced himself to open his mouth as much as it would allow, only to have something much to big shoved in much to quickly. He couldn't stop himself from gagging, tears springing to the corners of his eyes as he raised them to meet Maxwells smirk. The demons hand gave a tug, yanking Wes off his manhood before the mime gasped for air.  

A shadow brushed the bottom of Wes's chin, forcing him to look up once more. 

"It's hardly as much fun when I have to do all the work myself doll." Maxwell tsked, pausing to take a drag from his cigar and blowing the smoke into Wes's face. Wes coughed, only to have the other man shove his cock back down his throat and cut of his air supply once more. 

A warning squeeze at the back of Wes's head was enough to get him do something. He dragged his tongue against the others salty tasting shaft, sucking what he could and forcing himself to stroke what he couldn't. Maxwell gave a moan above him, beginning to thrust his hips in and out of the mimes mouth. 

Wes had never done this before. He didn't want to do this. He tried to shut his eyes to stop the tears, only to snap them open again when Maxwell yanked his hair in warning. He wished he was anywhere, doing anything but this.  

As if spurred on by Wes's misery, which was likely the case, Maxwell's thrusts became faster, deeper, and harsher. Soon he had reached a punishing tempo, and all Wes could do was keep his mouth open and gag under the assault. He felt like an object Maxwell was using for his own pleasure. He didn't like how true that was.  

He felt the others cock twitch before something bitter filled his mouth. Wes's eyes widened as he realized exactly what it was. But even after Maxwell had pulled out, a shadow hand clamped itself over his jaw. 

"Swallow." Maxwell ordered.  

Wes felt his stomach knot itself as he forced the foul liquid down his throat, shame burning through him. He wrapped his arms around his torso, looking down when the shadow let go of him. He could hear Maxwell tiding himself up, but didn't look until the other man began to speak. 

"Maybe your useful for something after all. Now, back to day one." 

Maxwell melted into the shadows that he had come from, briefly leaving Wes in confusion at his words before his fire went out completely. 


End file.
